


Litany for the mutilated world

by melancholicmermaid



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Bloodplay, F/M, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 19:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1522553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholicmermaid/pseuds/melancholicmermaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Half a century after they last saw each other, Klaus crashes Caroline’s wedding reception and just like that, all the vows she uttered in the morning are broken by nightfall. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Litany for the mutilated world

Let’s jump ahead to the moment of epiphany,

             in gold light, as the camera pans to where

the action is,

             lakeside and backlit, and it all falls into frame, close enough to see

                                                the blue rings of my eyes as I say

                                                                                                   something ugly.

I never liked that ending either.

 

* * *

 

It’s a blue evening dressed in rose mist by the setting sun. Klaus lingers near the entrance longer than necessary, his eyes taking in every detail from the pearl pink sheen of the canopies that flutter above to the ivory ranunculus bunched around the centre of every table.

He follows her scent, a curious blend of hyacinth and honeysuckles, across the floor. He doesn’t recognize most of the crowd here, but a few familiar faces stand out. He can already feel the whispers travel through them as he makes his way to where the bride stands surrounded by her close friends.

She is facing away from him, but he gazes at her hair, it’s different, much longer than he had ever seen her wear it, and his eyes soften a little. The elder Salvatore brother and the doppelgänger are talking to her, the latter begging her to come visit Mystic Falls (“ _it’ll be just like old times”_ ) when they are joined by more company. The man, her husband, he supposes, drapes his arm across her waist and pulls her closer. And the traitor, his own sister, his blood who has cunningly deceived him yet again stands next to them with her arms entwined around the other Salvatore brother.

Rebekah joins in the conversation commanding in her haughty tone that  _of course_  the newlyweds would be visiting Mystic Falls this summer.

“Come on, goldilocks, it’s where it all began, let’s go relive some memories.”

“Enzo, not you too! Maybe there are some memories I’d rather not touch, okay?” she snaps, before breaking away from the group and moving towards the bar. She turns back to look at him almost immediately, an apologetic soft smile playing on her face. “We’ll discuss this later. I just want one of those delicious fig cocktails right now.”

Klaus grits his teeth hating the comfortable intimacy she shares with the scoundrel.  He is just about to follow her when his sister zooms to his side, her eyes wide in shock and dismay.

“Nik, you have to leave. What are you doing here?”

“I don’t appreciate your dishonesty, Rebekah. Here I thought we were family and yet you kept this from me.”

“I didn’t realise Caroline’s marriage was any of your concern! You have a girlfriend, Nik. And Caroline is perfectly happy with Enzo. Don’t you ruin this day for her!”

“How dare you command me? I shall do as I please,” he looks down at her with anger, “and to make up for your failure of informing me about your budding friendship with her you will keep everyone busy while I have a word with the lovely bride.”

“Unless, of course, you would like to spend the next century staked and in a box,” he adds as she makes no attempt to move. He hasn’t spoken to her like this for years- not since he freed her in New Orleans. He half expects her to slap him, he would deserve it, but instead she shoots him a dirty look and flies back to her group.

Klaus returns his gaze to Caroline and continues on his path. Suddenly he is acutely aware of the surrounding sounds: a hummingbird flapping its wings in the distance, clinking wine glasses, mindless chatter, whisper of the nearby willows, and the burbling sound where the lake breaks over rocks. The nearer he gets to his destination the more the sounds drum in his ears. He can hear every single heartbeat, every pump of blood. It’s as if the mere thought of finally seeing her causes such deliria among his senses they make everything sharper.

The thing is (and he feels a pang of guilt to address it) he doesn’t remember her face. He remembers fragments of her -a lock of shiny hair, the salt-rose colour of her lips- but they are inconsequential details, never quite able to fully form her true beauty, never able to capture the radiance that surrounded her being. Time had erased her image from his mind, pity it had done nothing to diminish her hold over his heart.

He takes a deep breath and reaches out a hand to tap her shoulder when she turns her head as if sensing his presence.

“Klaus.”

He had a speech planned, but he is momentarily stunned into inaction. She is a luminous vision. Her beauty doesn’t dull everything in comparison, but uplifts it. Her presence turns everything alive. He feels something unfamiliar ignite deep within in.

The sudden feel of her arms around his neck breaks him out of his reverie.

Now that wasn’t how he expected this would go.

“You came,” she whispers softly.

“Well, my invitation must have got lost in the mail, but-”

“Rebekah told me not to. She thought- she is foolish, really- but she thought you still carried some sort of a torch for me. I told her it’s ridiculous. I mean, you have clearly moved on and-”

“Caroline, love-”

“What?” she smiles like a dagger and it holds none of the warmth of her earlier greeting.

He isn’t about to back down so easily though. Not now, not after waiting five decades just to have her fall in love with yet another man that wasn’t him.

Klaus briskly moves forward and knocks out the dainty glass she held in her hand, the pale red liquid staining her white dress. He admires the way some of it trails down her cleavage, and instinctively licks his lips. “Well, seems like there has been an unfortunate accident. Maybe I should take the dearest bride so she can get cleaned up,” he says loudly, grasping her hand and moving them over to the nearby woods.

“What did you do that for?!” she screams at him as soon as he lets her go. She is glorious in her anger.

“I just want to talk to you.”

“ _Seriously!?_  Not a word from you for the last bazillion years but you show up at my fucking wedding reception and destroy my dress because you wanna talk to me!?!”

He stares at her mesmerized. Everything about her is so beautiful. The utterly captivating fierce fire in her eyes hasn’t died out over the years.

“Hello! Klaus!”

“Sorry, I was momentarily distracted by the absolute delicious shade of pink your skin turns to when you are furious.”

“Oh god, I am going back,” she says turning her back to him.

“Wait-”

“What? I am done with your one-liners, Klaus.”

“Yes,” he nods, “I see you haven’t changed. Always eager to downplay my affections towards you. Or do you still doubt them? Even after all these years.”

“Oh no, I don’t have to downplay or doubt anything. You made your  _affections_  very clear after you impregnated the werewolf and then fucked me against a tree and  _left_.”

“So you heard about that,” he says more to himself than to her. He had been hoping she hadn’t.

“Yes, Klaus, and how do you think that made me feel? You could have at least had the decency to-”

“How that made you feel would be rather telling, don’t you think?” he watches in amusement as her eyes flash at that. “I must say this jealousy is completely unexpected though I am not complaining.”

His amusement is short-lived though as she pushes him back with so much force he goes flying through the air. Caught off guard by her, yet again. Furious at her audacity and stubbornness he marches forward and traps her against a tree with a firm grip on her arm.

“I am tired of these games, Caroline. I have been patient with you because I am in this for the long run, but I am not just going to stand by while you keep-”

“Then why are even you here?” she asks, looking into his eyes.

“I just wanted to see you,” he says truthfully.

“Why?”

“Because I look at you and all I feel is love,” the words fall out of his mouth, unplanned and true.

 “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to just show up and wreak havoc inside of me,” she says, her hand almost sub-consciously moving to twirl the wedding band she wears on her dainty finger. The very sight of it causes him anguish.

“Yes, congratulations are in order,” he mutters his eyes darkening with anger.

“Why don’t you just steal me away?” she whispers and it breaks his heart when he detects a trace of hope in her voice.

“You know I can’t, love. You have to choose me.  That was always the point. You need to affirm my love.”

She doesn’t say anything for a while and he simply rests his cheek against her hair, pleased with this proximity, however momentary it would be.

“Then why didn’t you come to me before I walked down the aisle?” she asks, her voice small and soft. She puts her hands on his face, her eyes blazing as she reads him.

“You idiot,” she says her eyes dropping down to his tux as she brushes off imaginary creases from his shirt. “You say you want to give me a choice but you are too freaking scared of rejection aren’t you?”

Klaus feels his mouth go dry but he paints an expressionless face.

“It’s like a game we play. I wait for you to spirit me away so I don’t actually have to take responsibility of the fact that I have fallen head over heels for a bloody monster and-“

“Now, love-“

“Shut up,” she snaps, before continuing, “an absolute beast, and I waited for you to pick me up and just take me away to show me the world and I thought I could blame it all on you. You know? Like, when I am near you and my heart still acts like I am twelve and kissing for the first time, and when you kiss me and it tastes of devotion, and when you make me laugh and I feel this warmth cut through all the cold, and I could say _, it’s all your fault_ , and I could pretend to hate you on the outside when all I felt inside was love.”

“I am such a fool. But you are a bigger fool aren’t you, Klaus? Because you act all smooth and make these grand declarations and pretend like you are giving me a choice to accept everything you offer, but it’s all an act.”

“And you come now, to proclaim your eternal love, no doubt, I can see it in your eyes, but you once again came prepared to walk away.”

“Shhh,” she quiets him when he tries interrupting her again, her fingers on his lips one of them curling inward as his lips part.

“You always did look handsome in a tux,” she says before standing on her toes and pressing her sweet mouth to his.

Klaus holds her waist, his fingers digging into the several gauzy layers that form the diaphanous creation she is dressed in. He can smell her blood through the bruises the bark of the tree leave on her back as he pushes her further against it before picking her up and wrapping her legs around him. He rains a trail of kisses from her jaw to her neck, nipping at the top of heaving breasts when he reaches them, appreciating the lingering taste of figs from the drink he had drenched her in earlier. He is just about to tear her bodice, the attack of her blood and flesh to his senses teasing him towards impatience, when she grips both his hands in hers.

“Don’t spoil my dress any further. I won’t be able to come up with an excuse for that.”

His eyes darken and he goes still at the realization that she plans to go back to her sham of a wedding once they are done here.

Caroline laughs at him as if reading his mind. It’s a bitter laugh, reeking of the cruelty he knows she is capable of only towards him. “What did you expect? You are such a fool.”

He has dreamed of her for so long and he is still worth nothing more than a fling against a tree to her. The thought angers him more than anything and his kisses slowly turn savage, till his fangs pierce her skin like pinpricks of knives. He watches her expression mirror the anger on his as she stares down at the blood dripping down her ivory gown, spreading across the gossamer fabric, painting scarlet designs.

Before he knows it, he is on forest floor, the autumnal leaves padding his fall as Caroline attacks him, her eyes dancing with barely contained fury. “I hate you,” she whispers, her hands making quick work of unzipping his pants. “Always have, always will,” she breathes out, picking up her lavish dress- all hundreds yards of its silk taffeta and tulle, before sitting astride on him, her wet centre (he can feel the dampness even through the lace covering it) rubbing against his aching erection. He watches her vampire face mesmerized as she bites into his wrist and drinks his blood, the act undignified and hasty, his blood caressing her mouth, her chin. He finds himself repeating her name in circles as she guides him inside her, a little too roughly, but it’s a sweet punishment and it only makes him harder.

He lets her take the lead, and she tears his shirt, her nails raking into his chest as she rolls her hips against his agonizingly slow. Her gaze holds him like the sun, and she is a goddess of fire, burning everything away. “I hate you,” she whispers again, louder, stronger and he breaks out of his reverie. He tries to turn them around, but she resists, continuing to ride him, digging her nails into his skin and breaking it. He growls loudly and she looks at him from under hooded eyes, a small smile on her lips as she leans over his chest and licks away at the drops of blood that have welled all across his skin.

Klaus snarls at her, and flips her over ignoring her small cry of protest. He climbs further into her body and admires the way Caroline’s indignant gasp turns into soft moans of pleasure. She still hasn’t taken his name though, and he intends to change that.

Klaus pulls down her dress, the cloth breaking apart under the cruelty of his fingers, and her breasts spilling free from their constraint. He thrust into her over and over and her nails dig into his shoulders as she wraps her leg around him, her heels pressing into his lower back. He wounds her hair around his hand and tugs, pulling it so her head falls back and her chest is arched towards him. He takes a rosy nipple in her mouth, his tongue moving around in circles, before sucking on it gently. His other hand wanders over to where they are joint, his thumb flicking her clit. He appreciates the reaction this gets from her, admires the breathlessness of her voice. He is close now and he moves his mouth to the underside of her breast before biting her roughly, marking her skin, marking her heart. Her bruises will heal over in seconds, but her flesh will carry the memory, he thinks, as she comes, calling out to god. He bristles a little in annoyance at the complete lack of his own name from her mouth but it soon slips his mind as her fangs tear into his neck, her lips soft against his skin, as she hungrily drinks from him. His release follows her and he collapses against her.

“My sweet seraphim,” he whispers when she pulls away from his neck, her face transforming back to normal. “You have grown wicked, haven’t you?” He rests his face against her soft breasts, as his hand traces her body, from the indent of her waist to the curve of her hip, memorizing it.

“I hate you,” she repeats, but it comes out odd, colourless.

“Would you believe it if you say it enough?”

“You just ruined my life.”

“Yes, I did.”

“I love him.”

Klaus feels a wave of rage course across him. He slips a hand between her legs and pushes them apart.

“I could kill him,” he says, lifting his head from her chest and moving downwards. He kisses her inner thighs, gently at first, before leaving crescent shaped marks across them. “You belong to him now,” he says, admiring the sight of her milky white legs covered with her own blood.

“Why do you care? It’s not like I ever belonged to you,” she says, but her voice is shaking. She draws her fingers through his curls and pushes his head towards her centre. “Please,” she whimpers.

He smiles against her wet folds as he licks her once before pulling away. “Say my name.”

“No.”

He slips his tongue inside, toying with her, before sucking on her clit.

“Say my name.”

She growls at him, but he can tell she is near. He continues his actions, his hands moving up to caress her breasts, his fingers pinching her pebbled nipples viciously. She comes under his mouth, and she exhales his name out. It’s so soft, so low, had he not been a vampire it would have escaped his hearing.

He lies on the floor beside her, and tilts his head to look at her.

Her hair is a lovely mess, the foliage clinging to her golden locks, and he longs to run his fingers through it, but it’s a privilege to tender to be his.

Caroline turns and lays on her side, looking at him, their foreheads almost touching. “I hate you,” she whispers, touching his cheek softly.

He can finally understand what she is saying and he puts an arm across her waist and pulls her closer. “Then come with me.”

“Klaus,” she says, just his name, this time it rings clear and loud.

“Yes, I know you think you love him, just like you did that old pup of yours, but I told you I intend to be your last love. I am not giving up just because of some metal circling your finger.”

“Well, I am not dying anytime soon.” She gets up, her hands already trying to fix her ravaged dress.

He follows her and they walk to the edge of the lake. He can see the fairy lights glittering across the trees near the reception. He sees her attention is on the opposite side, where a castle looms, and he figures that’s where the ceremony must have taken place. “This is our friend’s family estate,” she tells him, as she notices his glance. “I could probably go in there and change into something. I’ll come up with some reason.”

She nods at him, her feet taking a step backwards, and he realises that was her goodbye. She is leaving now that they are done. It wouldn’t have been that different from their last meeting, but today he finds himself unable to let her go.

“Come with me,” he says again, reaching out and taking her hand between his. "Let's not do this over again."

She doesn’t reply, but she doesn’t wrench her hand away either.

“Will you?” he asks her with bated breath, reading the myriad of emotions that flicker across her face.  The sun is almost upon them, the rays fall over the lake and cause a frenzy of colour. Her azure eyes greet his with an answer. 

 


End file.
